Cellar Door (Archived)
by A Quarter Past
Summary: An episode tag to season two's Whine Cellar. Ever wonder what happened when Niles let CC out?


Title: Cellar Door

Summary: An episode tag to season two's Whine Cellar. Ever wonder what happened when Niles let CC out? Again, as noted in my Break the Sky post, if you don't trust that I'm the original author of this, (I am), I invite you to email the email listed under Discord on the Nanny fanfiction archive. I will respond.

Just want to bring my stories back, now that the archive is down.

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Cellar Door

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x.x

Fran Fine had taken away her only chance of freedom.

And the world continued to revolve as she pitifully sat in the corner. She'd found another suitable bottle of wine, (the label of which she couldn't read). Her temporary bought of illiteracy was due in part to the fact that her vision already was dipping and swirling, complementing the way her life seemed to dip and swirl in a series of pathetically odd moments.

Like now.

"It's this house," she slurred with certainty. "It's this house and these people…and…and I need more wine, yes."

Without consulting the little plastic cup, CC Babcock tilted her head back and took a less than elegant swig from the bottle. She wasn't sure if it was an expensive year, for her palate had already slid past the stage of numb. It was dry, that was all that mattered.

"And my hair," she whined, her voice breaking off into a dry sob. CC wasn't sure if she was actually crying, but she felt that she should be. This is what women did when they were under duress. This is what women did when their worlds were topsy-turvy. This is what women did when someone added half a foot to their height on hair alone.

"I look like Sylvia pushed through a strainer," she cried a little louder.

Oh, how she'd been looking forward to her weekend with Maxwell! Just the two of them, a single cottage, and work—like he'd actually pay any more attention to her there than he did here, she knew he wouldn't. At least on the trip she would have gotten work done without a gaggle of kids, Nanny Fine, and that pesky Butler driving her absolutely mad.

CC giggled. Why couldn't be this honest without herself when she was sober?

"Because then I would drink," she laughed into the bottle. "Woooow! What an irony."

"Oh, is Caca talking to herself again? Tisk. Tisk. What would Bort say?"

Staring at the bottle, CC blinked owlishly. Had her wine just spoken to her? More importantly, if it had, why did it sound like Niles? One thing was certain, she had a sick subconscious. He insulted her enough without her mind helping him.

"Get up, Miss Babcock, I won't hold this door open for you all night."

Not her subconscious, apparently.

Looking up, CC allotted Niles the same owlish blink she'd given the wine. It took a pregnant moment for his words to register, and when they did she tried to jump to her feet. Freedom—by way of butler, but freedom nonetheless. Except, her legs had other plans, and she found herself slumping hazardously against the brick wall. One false move and she'd fall on her face.

Attempting to take a step regardless, she found herself landing painfully on her bottom.

"Umph!"

She was vaguely aware of a deep, heartfelt sigh and the sound of metal scraping across the floor. Was he closing the door on her? Probably—he hated her, this was certainly just another opportunity for him to make her miserable. Not that he had all that far to go, she was pretty certain her emotions had hit rock bottom sometime between Nanny Fine listing off the ice cream ingredients and getting locked in the second time.

The bottle of wine was torn from her grasp, and she watched it go, her mouth slightly agape. "Wha…?"

Two strong hands tucked under her armpits, and CC found herself being pulled to her feet, "Wha…?"

When he had her standing, his tight grip on her elbow preventing her from smashing to the floor again, Niles took the opportunity to take in her latest hair-do and make up, a smirk slowly forming on his face, "Oh, Miss Babcock, did you finally realize what Mr. Sheffield was looking for in a woman?"

"What? No… What?" Why couldn't she hold on to her thoughts? She'd had plenty of wine, but usually she could hold onto her rapier wit when needed.

"Not you."

That hurt—because she'd consumed enough alcohol to know that it was true. This…this domestic was always finding ways to insult her, to poke her where it hurt, and it seemed he wasn't the sort to stop kicking when she was already down. The worst part about it, the absolute worst, was that she didn't know why. He'd never given a reason as to why he targeted her with his one-liners, and while she'd learned to stomach it, right now she was curious and very much uninhibited and wanted to know.

"You know, Niles," She drawled as he began dragging her toward the door. CC was dragging her feet along, and when they came to the stairs this presented another difficulty. "I'm not usually the sensitive sort…"

He snorted his agreement.

"Buuuuut," she continued as if there had been no interruption, "even I can see when I'm being insulted—and while I've been the bigger person and ignored you all these years…enough is enough."

"Too bad you didn't hold that philosophy ten minutes ago with your wine, then I wouldn't be dragging a cow up stairs."

"See," she jabbed at his chest, her off-kilter aim making her poke his shoulder, "you're always doing it. Why?"

When he ignored the question and tugged her toward the door, CC anchored her feet to the ground and refused to help. She may be intoxicated, but that didn't mean she wasn't as stubborn as she was when sober. "Answer the question, Dust Buster."

Turning squarely, he caught her gaze and held it. "Because, Miss Babcock, you deserve it," Niles' tone was serious, holding none of the satire his insults carried, and for the moment, she could almost bring herself to believe him. Maybe she did deserve it.

CC furrowed her eyebrows and him, her jaw dropping. No. Nobody deserved to have someone follow them at their workplace and fling snark at them.

"Take that back," she ordered.

"I will not. It's the truth, and you need to accept it."

"I will not," she tugged her arm from his grasp and glared at him when he shrugged. "I may not be a nice person," she admitted, "but neither am I a bad person. I've seen worse people walk through Maxwell's doors…and you don't insult them…In fact, you positively dote over them. So…so…take it back!"

"Very articulate, Miss Babcock—why, Miss Grace could pose sounder arguments at the age of two," He appeared to be nonplussed by her outburst, and she felt her cheeks burning red with anger.

"That's it!" She declared, pushing away from him and toward the door. When she was safely standing on the other side, she turned and leveled a finger at him, "No more! After tonight, this target is firing back…"

"I'll inform the vet and set up an appointment for a rabies shot."

He took a step toward her and she closed the distance, her manicured fingernail pressed sharply against his chest, "Better have them neuter you while they're at it—my method's more painful…"

"You would know."

"Ha! What is that supposed to mean?"

"I've always pegged you for a masochist…"

"Now, wait one minute…"

"—If you'll excuse me, Miss Babcock, my work here is done. I've finished extricating you from the wine cellar. Now, there is a young woman waiting for me upstairs whose company I, quite plainly, prefer over yours. That's an occurrence you should be used to by now."

Brushing past her, Niles took each step quickly and was out of her line of vision before CC could react. Blinking once, then twice, she scowled and patted the massive volume that was her hair while her eyes darted between the stairway door and cellar door.

Making one last mumble of dissatisfaction, CC turned from the stairs leading to her freedom and pressed open the door that led to her makeshift prison.

Besides-it was quiet, Fine-free, and full of wine.

"Luck be a lady tonight…" she hummed as the door unceremoniously clicked shut and locked for the fourth and final time behind her.


End file.
